Authors: Ruth Clampett
“What are you talking about?” I ask baffled.
“Saturday…Saturday! I mean for fucks sake, my boss and quasi-boyfriend announced to the entire company that he was marrying me like I’m some idiot mail order bride. No conversation ahead of time, no warning…just parading me around like some damn door prize. I’m so humiliated. I don’t know how I can show my face there again.”
“People don’t think of you like that, Brooke,” I say softly.
“You have no idea, Nathan…no idea. I’ve been busting my ass trying to find another job, so I could finally get out from under him, and every opportunity mysteriously vanishes before the deal is struck. Well, now I’m the laughing stock of our industry. Look at all the fucking emails I’ve already gotten wishing us the best.”
She holds up her blackberry.
“I’d rather not,” I whisper.
My mind is reeling…another job…out from under him? What have I been missing?
“And you!” She pushes me on the chest.
Uh oh, she’s getting physical. Wow, it’s kind of hot.
I try to focus so I don’t get aroused. That would be really awkward and weird right about now.
“You’re the one who’s stirred everything up. You and your damn pedestal, treating me like I’m sooo perfect…like I deserve more. You don’t realize what that does to me.”
“I thought it’s good to be admired,” I say, trying not to feel bad.
“But don’t you see…I’m always worried that I’m going to let you down. All along you’ve thought you weren’t good enough for me. When will you figure out that it’s me that’s not good enough for you?”
“How can you say that?” I ask, baffled.
“I’m a mess, Nathan. I don’t even know who I am anymore. The sooner you figure out what a sorry mess I am, and that I’m not anywhere close to perfect, the better off you’ll be. You can go find the girl that really deserves you.”
I realize there are tears steaming down her face. Confused, I hold my hands out, palms facing up. “Find the girl, what girl?”
“
The
girl,” she says, her voice breaking. “You should go find her.”
“What makes you think she couldn’t be you?” I ask.
There are little sobs now in between the crying. It’s breaking my heart.
“No, not me,” she cries.
I never would imagine she could be like this. She always seems so powerful, so sure of herself. I’m seeing another side of her and it’s a revelation. I realize it’s my turn to be strong. I clear my throat so my voice will be sure and steady.
“I’m not going anywhere, so stop saying that Brooke.” I pull her into my arms. She feels so fragile, and it makes me want to protect her.
“Besides, even if you are a mess, you’re my perfect mess.”
She bucks and fights my embrace. “Quit saying that! I’m not perfect Nathan…not even close.”
I decide to try a new tactic. “Oh, I know that… believe me!” I tease.
“You do?” She sniffles, the crying slowing down.
“Sure. What you don’t understand is that despite the fact that your coffee drinks are disgustingly sweet, you like Strawberry Shortcake, and that you have questionable taste in men, you’re still perfect to me.”
She sniffles against my chest, and I feel her relax a tiny bit into me. I rub my hand over her back slowly.
“You think my coffee drinks are too sweet?” She asks quietly, sniffle-free.
“Oh yeah! When I order them my teeth hurt.”
“Then why do you get them for me? You could try to get me to order something less sweet?”
“I wouldn’t do that, Brooke. I don’t want to change you. I just want to make you happy.”
She takes a deep breath that shivers from the leftover tears.
“Oh, Nathan. Whatever am I going to do with you?”
“Whatever you want to,” I reply.
She pulls away just enough to look up at me and smile.
“Thank you,” she says softly.
“For what?”
“I actually feel a little bit better.”
I smile back. “Good. See if you’d let me take you to breakfast at six this morning, you could have avoided all this heartache,” I tease.
“Yeah, six in the morning. If you could see me at six in the morning on a work day you’d know that would never happen.”
“See, yet another way you aren’t perfect…the list is getting long now.” I give her a crooked smile.
She grins, and then looks embarrassed. “I’m sorry I yelled at you.”
“And pushed me,” I remind her.
“Yes,” she agrees, looking down ashamed.
“I’m not. I think you needed that. I think we both did. Besides, I’m just really, really glad you’re here. Are you going to be sweet to me now?” I ask, half teasing, half not.
She smiles softly. “Yes, I’m going to be very sweet with you.” She studies me for a moment, and then wipes the tears off her cheek. “Ugh, I’m a mess. I need to wash off my face. Where’s the bathroom?”
“First door on the right, in the hallway.”
“Okay, I’ll just be a sec.”
I watch her walk away, and although I’m still worried about her, I’m so glad she came over. I step to the window and gaze out to the back garden and think about all the things she’s revealed to me.
She’s been trying to leave Arnold, she wants a new job, she thinks she’s a mess…wait…wait!…oh God, no!
It all hits me like an icy wave, and a panic shoots through me that I’ve never known. The time I almost got hit by a minivan when I was riding my new bike Christmas day doesn’t even compare.
Because at this moment Brooke is in my bathroom…the bathroom where the instructions on
How to Woo A Girl
and all my note cards are posted. My emasculation will be so profound if she reads that stuff, I’ll never recover.
I want to die.
I rush to the door and knock. “Brooke, Brooke. I need to get in there.”
Silence.
I try to turn the knob, but it’s locked. I rattle the handle in frustration.
“Brooke. Please, please let me in.”
Silence.
I press my hands and forehead to the door, and say a prayer that she’ll let me in.
Please Brooke.
My humiliation is so big I can’t wrap my arms around it. There’s no way she will ever be able to see me as anything but a loser idiot. I have lost every bit of gain I ever made with her with one simple mistake.
It was bad enough when I thought I was losing her to Arnold, but this…
“Please, Brooke. Please.”
Her silence tells me everything.
It’s done. It’s over. I might as well put the polo shirt with the bow tie and pocket protector back on. My heart feels like it’s melting right out of my chest.
I turn and walk back to the kitchen and straight out the back door. I need the sun and air of the backyard, because if I stay in that house another moment I think I will climb the walls.
I pace across the grass, thinking of what I will say.
I’m sorry I’m such a loser?
There are no elegant words to explain how much I want her, and the lengths I’ll go to be the best man I can be for her. How can I explain that I needed a jumble of inkjet printouts and note cards to give me a glimmer of hope.
I’m not sure how long I’ve been outside mumbling to myself, but I finally get the balls to go inside and get her out of the bathroom. It’s time to face the music. But once inside, I see that the bathroom door’s wide open. I warily approach the doorway and peek in, confirming that my guide to avoid being a loner pathetic idiot is still plastered all over the mirror, and Brooke is no where to be seen.
“Brooke?” I call out panicked. I can’t believe she just left without saying goodbye. The loser manifesto must have really freaked her out.
“In here,” she calls out weakly. It sounds like she’s in the bedroom. I look inside and see that she’s lying on my bed, white as a ghost.
“I hope you don’t mind,” she offers. “You don’t have a couch, and I got dizzy and needed to lie down.”
“Oh no. Are you sick?” I ask concerned, stepping closer.
“No, and don’t worry — I’m not pregnant.”
Not pregnant?
Oh, but can you imagine how beautiful a baby Brooke would be? I try to keep my eyes from bugging out of my head while she continues.
“It’s stupid, really. I’m so freaking stressed out that I didn’t sleep last night, and I haven’t eaten either…so it all caught up with me. I think I’m dehydrated too. Would you mind getting me some water? “
“Of course.” I quickly head to the kitchen, relieved for the distraction. I quickly grab some stuff and head back.
I watch her push herself up into a sitting position as I unscrew the cap for her.
“Here, drink up.”
She takes a sip and then looks at the plate I set on the nightstand. “What’s that?”
“Crackers with Cheese Wiz and a little box of raisins. I think you should eat something.”
“Cheese Wiz?” The edges of her mouth turn up. “I didn’t think they made that anymore.”
“Oh sure. I get mine at Seven-Eleven.” I watch her eat a few raisins and take a tiny bite off a cracker. I can tell she’s tentative about the Cheese Wiz. “Don’t worry, it’s still good. That stuff never expires.”
“Precisely,” she says, wrinkling her nose. When she finishes most of the water she lays back on the bed. “I’m so tired,” she says softly.
“Why don’t you nap?” I suggest, desperately hoping she’ll stay.
“Okay, but only if you lie with me,” she says, her voice already fading.
I kick off my shoes and crawl up on the bed, settling in on my side facing her.
“I didn’t sleep either. Maybe I’ll nap too.”
She reaches over and our hands link. My heart surges somehow sensing that despite whatever she learned during her visit to my bathroom, that she still accepts me. She isn’t going to cast me out.
I take a deep grateful breath. I feel so much calmer with her here next to me, her hand tethering me to her. I start to surrender to the exhaustion.
Right before I close my eyes and fall away from the waking world, I say a silent prayer of thanks. There must be a geek-loving angel with a tender heart looking over me and my girl.
I blink slowly, taking in the lavender light. Brooke is nestled under my arm and I sense her stirring. What time is it? How long have we been asleep?
“Nathan?” she whispers.
“Yes,” I whisper back.
“You’re awake.”
She gently squeezes my arm and then rolls over and grabs the water bottle. I get up to use the restroom, and when I’m done I carefully pull all the papers off the mirror and shove them in the bottom drawer.
When I return I see she’s eaten several of the crackers and the rest of the raisins.
“Feeling better?” I crawl back up on the bed and study her face.
“Yeah.” She rolls over to face me. “Hey Nathan? Can we talk about something?”
“Sure,” I respond, immediately nervous.
There’s a silent minute where she seems to be considering her words. She looks troubled, and I try to steel myself for whatever she’s about to say. Finally she smoothes out a wrinkle on the bedspread and looks up at me.
“There’s stuff we’ve been keeping from each other, isn’t there?”
I nod slowly.
Oh no, where’s she going with this?
“I’ve known for a while that there was something up with your thing with Dani, but I didn’t want to say anything. I guess it sort of gave us a buffer, a comfort zone. You know what I mean?”
I just nod and look down, afraid to admit any specifics yet. I need to tell her I love her, but it hasn’t felt like the right time. I’m not sure I’m ready for all of this.
“And I know there’s something about your comic book that you don’t want me to see. You’re afraid I’m not going to like something, aren’t you?”
“Yes,” I whisper. “You could say that.”
“And there’s a lot I haven’t told you about my situation with Arnauld. I’ve only told you parts because…well, I guess because I needed a buffer too.”
“Yeah,” I guess so. “So you’re really not going to marry him?”
“No.” She smiles. “I never would’ve married him. Even if I’d never met you. I wouldn’t have married him, I swear.”
I nod, taking a deep breath and letting the relief seep through me.
“This is the deal,” she explains. “I’ve been so stressed, so worried…I mean you have no idea of the hell that it’s been inside my head.”
Her face twists up in pain and she runs her hand across her forehead.
“I’m sorry,” I say quietly as I inch closer to her. “Can I do anything?”
She lies still for moment thinking, and then her expression fixes somewhere between hope and fear. “You know what I need? I need a week of no worries, just fun, just happy. Yeah that’s what I need…happy twenty-four, seven.”
“Okay,” I stammer, having no idea how I can facilitate that.
“Here’s the thing. Arnauld is leaving for New York tonight. He has meetings there all week that he couldn’t get out of. I told him last night that I wouldn’t marry him, and he insisted that I take the week to think it over. We are meeting the night he gets back.”
“So you’re going to think about it this week?”
“No, like I said, I have no intention of marrying him, but I agreed to talk again because it was the only way he’d get off my back. We rehashed everything last night for hours. He just wore me the fuck out.”
I can see the price she’s paid by the exhaustion in her expression.
“And that’s my point…I don’t want to think about anything for a while. I need a goddamn break from agonizing over how to get out of this mess, the things he’s doing to sabotage my job search, and how to salvage my career. The worst part though is my guilt from pulling you into this disaster, then worrying about how I can protect you from him.”
She looks up at me, the concern and care she feels so evident in her expression as she continues. “It’s just all too much. So I just want to be free from any heavy thoughts for a few days.
“Okay, so what can I do to help?” I ask hopeful.
“I want to have fun….fun with you. I’m always happy when I’m with you. You make me feel special and appreciated.”
I smile widely. “I’m so glad, Brooke.” I guess I’ve done a few things right.
“And I want to make you feel the same,” she says softly.
Wow.
She runs her fingers up my chest and looks up at me. “You know what I really want from you?” She gives me the sweetest smile. “…I want to be wooed.”